We are no other than a moving show
Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go
Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held
In Midnight by the Master of the Show.
But "the Master of the Show," in this case, was Dr. Fu-Manchu!
I have been asked many times since the days with which these records deal: Who WAS Dr. Fu-Manchu? Let me confess here that my final answer must be postponed3. I can only indicate, at this place, the trend of my reasoning, and leave my reader to form whatever conclusion he pleases.
What group can we isolate4 and label as responsible for the overthrow5 of the Manchus? The casual student of modern Chinese history will reply: "Young China." This is unsatisfactory. What do we mean by Young China? In my own hearing Fu-Manchu had disclaimed6, with scorn, association with the whole of that movement; and assuming that the name were not an assumed one, he clearly can have been no anti-Manchu, no Republican.
The Chinese Republican is of the mandarin7 class, but of a new generation which veneers8 its Confucianism with Western polish. These youthful and unbalanced reformers, in conjunction with older but no less ill-balanced provincial9 politicians, may be said to represent Young China. Amid such turmoils10 as this we invariably look for, and invariably find, a Third Party. In my opinion, Dr. Fu-Manchu was one of the leaders of such a party.
Another question often put to me was: Where did the Doctor hide during the time that he pursued his operations in London? This is more susceptible11 of explanation. For a time Nayland Smith supposed, as I did myself, that the opium12 den2 adjacent to the old Ratcliff Highway was the Chinaman's base of operations; later we came to believe that the mansion13 near Windsor was his hiding-place, and later still, the hulk lying off the downstream flats. But I think I can state with confidence that the spot which he had chosen for his home was neither of these, but the East End riverside building which I was the first to enter. Of this I am all but sure; for the reason that it not only was the home of Fu-Manchu, of Karamaneh, and of her brother, Aziz, but the home of something else—of something which I shall speak of later.
The dreadful tragedy (or series of tragedies) which attended the raid upon the place will always mark in my memory the supreme14 horror of a horrible case. Let me endeavor to explain what occurred.
By the aid of Karamaneh, you have seen how we had located the whilom warehouse15, which, from the exterior16, was so drab and dreary17, but which within was a place of wondrous18 luxury. At the moment selected by our beautiful accomplice19, Inspector20 Weymouth and a body of detectives entirely21 surrounded it; a river police launch lay off the wharf22 which opened from it on the river-side; and this upon a singularly black night, than which a better could not have been chosen.
She was enveloped24 in a big, loose cloak, and from the shadow of the hood25 her wonderful eyes gleamed out like stars.
"What do you wish us to do?" asked Nayland Smith.
"You—and Dr. Petrie," she replied swiftly, "must enter first, and bring out Aziz. Until he is safe—until he is out of that place—you are to make no attempt upon—"
"Upon Dr. Fu-Manchu?" interrupted Weymouth; for Karamaneh hesitated to pronounce the dreaded26 name, as she always did. "But how can we be sure that there is no trap laid for us?"
The Scotland Yard man did not entirely share my confidence in the integrity of this Eastern girl whom he knew to have been a creature of the Chinaman's.
"Aziz lies in the private room," she explained eagerly, her old accent more noticeable than usual. "There is only one of the Burmese men in the house, and he—he dare not enter without orders!"
"But Fu-Manchu?"
"We have nothing to fear from him. He will be your prisoner within ten minutes from now! I have no time for words—you must believe!" She stamped her foot impatiently. "And the dacoit?" snapped Smith.
"He also."
"I think perhaps I'd better come in, too," said Weymouth slowly.
Karamaneh shrugged27 her shoulders with quick impatience28, and unlocked the door in the high brick wall which divided the gloomy, evil-smelling court from the luxurious29 apartments of Dr. Fu-Manchu.
"Make no noise," she warned. And Smith and myself followed her along the uncarpeted passage beyond.
Inspector Weymouth, with a final word of instruction to his second in command, brought up the rear. The door was reclosed; a few paces farther on a second was unlocked. Passing through a small room, unfurnished, a farther passage led us to a balcony. The transition was startling.
Darkness was about us now, and silence: a perfumed, slumberous30 darkness—a silence full of mystery. For, beyond the walls of the apartment whereon we looked down waged the unceasing battle of sounds that is the hymn31 of the great industrial river. About the scented32 confines which bounded us now floated the smoke-laden vapors33 of the Lower Thames.
From the metallic34 but infinitely35 human clangor of dock-side life, from the unpleasant but homely36 odors which prevail where ships swallow in and belch37 out the concrete evidences of commercial prosperity, we had come into this incensed38 stillness, where one shaded lamp painted dim enlargements of its Chinese silk upon the nearer walls, and left the greater part of the room the darker for its contrast.
Nothing of the Thames-side activity—of the riveting39 and scraping—the bumping of bales—the bawling40 of orders—the hiss41 of steam—penetrated to this perfumed place. In the pool of tinted42 light lay the deathlike figure of a dark-haired boy, Karamaneh's muffled43 form bending over him.
"At last I stand in the house of Dr. Fu-Manchu!" whispered Smith.
Despite the girl's assurance, we knew that proximity44 to the sinister45 Chinaman must be fraught46 with danger. We stood, not in the lion's den, but in the serpent's lair47.
From the time when Nayland Smith had come from Burma in pursuit of this advance-guard of a cogent48 Yellow Peril49, the face of Dr. Fu-Manchu rarely had been absent from my dreams day or night. The millions might sleep in peace—the millions in whose cause we labored50!—but we who knew the reality of the danger knew that a veritable octopus51 had fastened upon England—a yellow octopus whose head was that of Dr. Fu-Manchu, whose tentacles52 were dacoity, thuggee, modes of death, secret and swift, which in the darkness plucked men from life and left no clew behind.
"Karamaneh!" I called softly.
The muffled form beneath the lamp turned so that the soft light fell upon the lovely face of the slave girl. She who had been a pliant53 instrument in the hands of Fu-Manchu now was to be the means whereby society should be rid of him.
My feet sinking in the rich pile of the carpet, I came through the gloom of the great apartment in to the patch of light, and, Karamaneh beside me, stood looking down upon the boy. It was Aziz, her brother; dead so far as Western lore55 had power to judge, but kept alive in that deathlike trance by the uncanny power of the Chinese doctor.
From the case which I carried I took out a needle-syringe and a phial containing a small quantity of amber57-hued liquid. It was a drug not to be found in the British Pharmacopoeia. Of its constitution I knew nothing. Although I had had the phial in my possession for some days I had not dared to devote any of its precious contents to analytical58 purposes. The amber drops spelled life for the boy Aziz, spelled success for the mission of Nayland Smith, spelled ruin for the fiendish Chinaman.
I raised the white coverlet. The boy, fully59 dressed, lay with his arms crossed upon his breast. I discerned the mark of previous injections as, charging the syringe from the phial, I made what I hoped would be the last of such experiments upon him. I would have given half of my small worldly possessions to have known the real nature of the drug which was now coursing through the veins60 of Aziz—which was tinting61 the grayed face with the olive tone of life; which, so far as my medical training bore me, was restoring the dead to life.
But such was not the purpose of my visit. I was come to remove from the house of Dr. Fu-Manchu the living chain which bound Karamaneh to him. The boy alive and free, the Doctor's hold upon the slave girl would be broken.
My lovely companion, her hands convulsively clasped, knelt and devoured62 with her eyes the face of the boy who was passing through the most amazing physiological63 change in the history of therapeutics. The peculiar64 perfume which she wore—which seemed to be a part of her—which always I associated with her—was faintly perceptible. Karamaneh was breathing rapidly.
"You have nothing to fear," I whispered; "see, he is reviving. In a few moments all will be well with him."
The hanging lamp with its garishly65 colored shade swung gently above us, wafted67, it seemed, by some draught68 which passed through the apartment. The boy's heavy lids began to quiver, and Karamaneh nervously69 clutched my arm, and held me so whilst we watched for the long-lashed eyes to open. The stillness of the place was positively70 unnatural71; it seemed inconceivable that all about us was the discordant72 activity of the commercial East End. Indeed, this eerie73 silence was becoming oppressive; it began positively to appall74 me.
Inspector Weymouth's wondering face peeped over my shoulder.
"Where is Dr. Fu-Manchu?" I whispered, as Nayland Smith in turn appeared beside me. "I cannot understand the silence of the house—"
"Look about," replied Karamaneh, never taking her eyes from the face of Aziz.
I peered around the shadowy walls. Tall glass cases there were, shelves and niches75: where once, from the gallery above, I had seen the tubes and retorts, the jars of unfamiliar76 organisms, the books of unfamiliar lore, the impedimenta of the occult student and man of science—the visible evidences of Fu-Manchu's presence. Shelves—cases—niches—were bare. Of the complicated appliances unknown to civilized77 laboratories, wherewith he pursued his strange experiments, of the tubes wherein he isolated78 the bacilli of unclassified diseases, of the yellow-bound volumes for a glimpse at which (had they known of their contents) the great men of Harley Street would have given a fortune—no trace remained. The silken cushions; the inlaid tables; all were gone.
The room was stripped, dismantled79. Had Fu-Manchu fled? The silence assumed a new significance. His dacoits and kindred ministers of death all must have fled, too.
"You have let him escape us!" I said rapidly. "You promised to aid us to capture him—to send us a message—and you have delayed until—"
"No," she said; "no!" and clutched at my arm again. "Oh! is he not reviving slowly? Are you sure you have made no mistake?"
Her thoughts were all for the boy; and her solicitude80 touched me. I again examined Aziz, the most remarkable81 patient of my busy professional career.
As I counted the strengthening pulse, he opened his dark eyes—which were so like the eyes of Karamaneh—and, with the girl's eager arms tightly about him, sat up, looking wonderingly around.
Karamaneh pressed her cheek to his, whispering loving words in that softly spoken Arabic which had first betrayed her nationality to Nayland Smith. I handed her my flask82, which I had filled with wine.
"My promise is fulfilled!" I said. "You are free! Now for Fu-Manchu! But first let us admit the police to this house; there is something uncanny in its stillness."
"No," she replied. "First let my brother be taken out and placed in safety. Will you carry him?"
The burly detective lifted the boy as tenderly as a woman, passed through the shadows to the stairway, ascended84, and was swallowed up in the gloom. Nayland Smith's eyes gleamed feverishly85. He turned to Karamaneh.
"You are not playing with us?" he said harshly. "We have done our part; it remains86 for you to do yours."
"Do not speak so loudly," the girl begged. "HE is near us—and, oh, God, I fear him so!"
"Where is he?" persisted my friend.
Karamaneh's eyes were glassy with fear now.
"You must not touch him until the police are here," she said—but from the direction of her quick, agitated87 glances I knew that, her brother safe now, she feared for me, and for me alone. Those glances sent my blood dancing; for Karamaneh was an Eastern jewel which any man of flesh and blood must have coveted88 had he known it to lie within his reach. Her eyes were twin lakes of mystery which, more than once, I had known the desire to explore.
"Look—beyond that curtain"—her voice was barely audible—"but do not enter. Even as he is, I fear him."
Her voice, her palpable agitation89, prepared us for something extraordinary. Tragedy and Fu-Manchu were never far apart. Though we were two, and help was so near, we were in the abode90 of the most cunning murderer who ever came out of the East.
It was with strangely mingled91 emotions that I crossed the thick carpet, Nayland Smith beside me, and drew aside the draperies concealing92 a door, to which Karamaneh had pointed93. Then, upon looking into the dim place beyond, all else save what it held was forgotten.
We looked upon a small, square room, the walls draped with fantastic Chinese tapestry94, the floor strewn with cushions; and reclining in a corner, where the faint, blue light from a lamp, placed upon a low table, painted grotesque95 shadows about the cavernous face—was Dr. Fu-Manchu!
At sight of him my heart leaped—and seemed to suspend its functions, so intense was the horror which this man's presence inspired in me. My hand clutching the curtain, I stood watching him. The lids veiled the malignant96 green eyes, but the thin lips seemed to smile. Then Smith silently pointed to the hand which held a little pipe. A sickly perfume assailed97 my nostrils98, and the explanation of the hushed silence, and the ease with which we had thus far executed our plan, came to me. The cunning mind was torpid—lost in a brutish world of dreams.
Fu-Manchu was in an opium sleep!
The dim light traced out a network of tiny lines, which covered the yellow face from the pointed chin to the top of the great domed99 brow, and formed deep shadow pools in the hollows beneath his eyes. At last we had triumphed.
I could not determine the depth of his obscene trance; and mastering some of my repugnance100, and forgetful of Karamaneh's warning, I was about to step forward into the room, loaded with its nauseating101 opium fumes102, when a soft breath fanned my cheek.
"Do not go in!" came Karamaneh's warning voice—hushed—trembling.
Her little hand grasped my arm. She drew Smith and myself back from the door.
"There is danger there!" she whispered.
"Do not enter that room! The police must reach him in some way—and drag him out! Do not enter that room!"
The girl's voice quivered hysterically103; her eyes blazed into savage104 flame. The fierce resentment105 born of dreadful wrongs was consuming her now; but fear of Fu-Manchu held her yet. Inspector Weymouth came down the stairs and joined us.
"I have sent the boy to Ryman's room at the station," he said. "The divisional surgeon will look after him until you arrive, Dr. Petrie. All is ready now. The launch is just off the wharf and every side of the place under observation. Where's our man?"
He drew a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and raised his eyebrows106 interrogatively. The absence of sound—of any demonstration107 from the uncanny Chinaman whom he was there to arrest—puzzled him.
Nayland Smith jerked his thumb toward the curtain.
At that, and before we could utter a word, Weymouth stepped to the draped door. He was a man who drove straight at his goal and saved reflections for subsequent leisure. I think, moreover, that the atmosphere of the place (stripped as it was it retained its heavy, voluptuous108 perfume) had begun to get a hold upon him. He was anxious to shake it off; to be up and doing.
He pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the room. Smith and I perforce followed him. Just within the door the three of us stood looking across at the limp thing which had spread terror throughout the Eastern and Western world. Helpless as Fu-Manchu was, he inspired terror now, though the giant intellect was inert—stupefied.
In the dimly lit apartment we had quitted I heard Karamaneh utter a stifled109 scream. But it came too late.
As though cast up by a volcano, the silken cushions, the inlaid table with its blue-shaded lamp, the garish66 walls, the sprawling110 figure with the ghastly light playing upon its features—quivered, and shot upward!
So it seemed to me; though, in the ensuing instant I remembered, too late, a previous experience of the floors of Fu-Manchu's private apartments; I knew what had indeed befallen us. A trap had been released beneath our feet.
I recall falling—but have no recollection of the end of my fall—of the shock marking the drop. I only remember fighting for my life against a stifling111 something which had me by the throat. I knew that I was being suffocated112, but my hands met only the deathly emptiness.
Into a poisonous well of darkness I sank. I could not cry out. I was helpless. Of the fate of my companions I knew nothing—could surmise113 nothing. Then … all consciousness ended.
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1
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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3
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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isolate
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| vt.使孤立，隔离 | |
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overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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disclaimed
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| v.否认( disclaim的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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Mandarin
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| n.中国官话，国语，满清官吏；adj.华丽辞藻的 | |
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veneers
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| n.饰面薄板( veneer的名词复数 )；虚假的外表；虚饰；牙罩冠 | |
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provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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turmoils
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| n.混乱( turmoil的名词复数 )；焦虑 | |
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susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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opium
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| n.鸦片；adj.鸦片的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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fulfill
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| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hood
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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slumberous
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| a.昏昏欲睡的 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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vapors
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| n.水汽，水蒸气，无实质之物( vapor的名词复数 )；自夸者；幻想 [药]吸入剂 [古]忧郁（症）v.自夸，（使）蒸发( vapor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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belch
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| v.打嗝，喷出 | |
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incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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riveting
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| adj.动听的，令人着迷的，完全吸引某人注意力的；n.铆接（法） | |
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bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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42
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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fraught
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| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
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lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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cogent
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| adj.强有力的，有说服力的 | |
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49
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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51
octopus
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| n.章鱼 | |
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tentacles
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| n.触手( tentacle的名词复数 )；触角；触须；触毛 | |
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53
pliant
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| adj.顺从的；可弯曲的 | |
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54
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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56
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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analytical
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| adj.分析的；用分析法的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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tinting
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| 着色，染色（的阶段或过程） | |
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devoured
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| 吞没( devour的过去式和过去分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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physiological
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| adj.生理学的，生理学上的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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garishly
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| adv.鲜艳夺目地，俗不可耐地；华丽地 | |
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garish
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| adj.华丽而俗气的，华而不实的 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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discordant
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| adj.不调和的 | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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appall
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| vt.使惊骇，使大吃一惊 | |
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niches
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| 壁龛( niche的名词复数 )； 合适的位置[工作等]； （产品的）商机； 生态位（一个生物所占据的生境的最小单位） | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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dismantled
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| 拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 )； 拆卸； 废除； 取消 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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domed
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| adj. 圆屋顶的, 半球形的, 拱曲的 动词dome的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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repugnance
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| n.嫌恶 | |
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nauseating
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| adj.令人恶心的，使人厌恶的v.使恶心，作呕( nauseate的现在分词 ) | |
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fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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109
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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111
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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112
suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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